


Cheater

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [16]
Category: Alice Nine, the GazettE
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice Nine and GazettE have a holiday party together. Unfortunately, an alcohol-fueled Shou decides to play rock-paper-scissors with everyone – something that never fails to bring out the Demon King in him - and mayhem ensues. Will Ruki’s scheme to stop him succeed, or will Hiroto have to save the day? (Also includes a bonus Kai/Uruha scene!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheater

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Stargazer series, this was my New Year's fic for 2012. The twist the rock/paper/scissors game takes was inspired by a Twitter conversation between Ruki and Shou where they played a virtual version of the game - and Ruki did the same thing he does in this story.

In the void between Christmas and New Year’s, somewhere between gigs and recording sessions and the usual photoshoot-interview rounds, two bands found they both had an evening free. And because said two bands hadn’t really had time to hang out with each other in awhile - they hadn’t even been able to spend any time together when they were both playing in Hokkaido - they decided to have a joint post-Christmas, pre-New Year’s party.

It happened at Shou‘s place, which was determined to be the roomiest of the Alice Nine apartments. Not that nine people needed a hell of a lot of room, but it was nice to not feel like they were stuffed into a tin can. And, yes, there were nine, not ten. One member of Team Alice was missing, as Kra and SCREW were _also_ having a joint party tonight, and Nao had opted (or, rather, been coaxed by his bandmates, after a major guilt trip about not going to their event) to go to Yasuno’s party.

This had baffled Ruki, who was always a big believer in “bros before hos” and felt that you shouldn’t turn down your friends for the sake of a love interest. “Believe it or not,” Aoi told him, “some guys actually date people outside their own bands, you know. And, hey - this may come as a real shocker to you, but some guys actually date WOMEN.”

The guitarist then went over to his drummer, who was seated on the floor next to his boyfriend. “You’re just going to have to be Leader-san for everyone tonight, Kai,” he said, patting Kai’s shoulder.

“I’ll try my best,” Kai replied. He was actually glad to have the quiet party with friends. The PSC Christmas Party had been rather nerve-wracking for him, given that it was his and Uruha’s public debut as a couple. They’d attracted relentless attention all night - except for those hot stolen moments in the secondary ballroom. (Why did he still have a funny feeling, whenever he thought of that incident, that they had been watched?)

Across the room, one of the two who had done the watching was eying the other couple out of the corner of his eye with trepidation. Hiroto really didn’t want Kai and Uruha to ever find out what happened that night - that he and Shou had been in the closet watching them, and doing something about it. He was going to have to act as normal as possible around the other couple.

He turned his attention to Shou instead - who was in very high spirits. And why shouldn’t he? The song that was his brainchild, Niji no Yuki, had made its debut and was selling well. He was chatting with the other guests, laughing . . . and drinking. More than Shou usually drank.

“Don’t you think you should, you know, slow down?” Hiroto said after he saw Shou pour out his third glass of holiday punch - a concoction of rum and fruit juices, with an emphasis on the rum.

“I’m okay,” Shou said. “I can handle it. Not as if I’m driving tonight, right?” Hiroto had to admit he had a point there - a distinct advantage of being the host. “Besides, I feel like celebrating.” He clinked his glass against the one Hiroto had been nursing all evening. “Niji no Yuki is a hit, and it’s almost our first anniversary!”

Hiroto looked down into his drink. He remembered the day they became a couple well, since it was also the day Alice Nine played Budokan. As vividly as if it were yesterday, he recalled Shou pulling him into the backstage shower room, kissing him and confessing his love at long last, after Hiroto had nearly given up all hope of there ever being anything between them but sex.

“I remember,” he said, squeezing Shou’s hand. “I’ll always remember.”

Shou leaned over and kissed Hiroto’s lips, softly. “We’ll have a private celebration on the actual day. But for now, I want to . . .”

Hiroto blinked. Want to what? Was Shou going to want to drag him off to the bedroom for fun times in the middle of the party? He felt his breath catching at that. Doing it with everyone right there . . . it was risky, but exciting. (And why did a part of him feel excited at the idea of Kai and Uruha hearing them the way they’d watched Kai and Uruha? Bad Hiroto, he told himself, no ‘64 Stratocaster for you).

Shou suddenly downed the rest of his punch at a gulp and raced over to his bookshelf, removing a pink rubber hammer, a souvenir of a certain Alice Nine Channel - one that Hiroto would rather forget. “Who’s up for rock-paper-scissors?” he said.

Oh, no. Hiroto facepalmed. Shou plus alcohol plus rock-paper-scissors-with-the-hammer-involved was a very, very frightening concept.

“I’m game,” Aoi said, “but why the hammer?”

“It’s the Alice Nine brand of rock-paper-scissors,” Shou said. “You have the hammer and a frying pan. You do rock-paper-scissors, and whoever wins takes the hammer and tries to hit the loser on top of the head. The loser then tries to cover his head with the pan before the winner can hit him. If he does, he scores a point. If the winner is able to hit him, he scores a point. And whoever gets three points first wins.”

No, Aoi-kun, you don’t want to do this, Hiroto thought. You really don’t want to do this. Back out before it’s too late . . .

“Okay, sounds fun.” He took his drink and went over to a clear spot on the floor, near Shou’s Video Game Center of Doom. Hiroto facepalmed again.

Saga shook his head as he watched Shou fetch the pan. “He’s just doing this because Nao’s not here,” he said. “He knows Nao can beat him at this.”

Ruki noticed Hiroto’s stance, and walked over to him. He knew his kohei very, very well - in the seven years he’d known Shou, he’d seen a lot of sides of the other vocalist. (The two of them had been close-friends-with-benefits for a long time, after all). And thus, he knew that sometimes Shou displayed sides that were unexpected.

“Hiroto,” he said, “what is this about?”

On the other side of the room, the two players were sitting on the floor, facing each other. “Okay,” Shou said. “Jan-ken-PON!” Shou held out his hand in a fist - rock. Aoi displayed his first two fingers spread apart - scissors.

Hiroto’s heart sank. He knew the rules well. Paper covers rock, scissors cut paper, rock crushes scissors. Only it was his friend who was about to get crushed.

As he watched helplessly, he saw Shou get that all-too-familiar demonic gleam in his eyes. Aoi tried to cover his head with the pan - but he was no match for Shou’s lighting speed. He grabbed the pink rubber hammer and bonked the guitarist over the head - hard.

“My point!” he said.

“That’s what it’s about,” Hiroto said. “He turns into a monster when he plays this game.”

Aoi dropped to the ground, rubbing his head. “Fuck, that hurt!”

“You give up, then?” Shou said, twirling the hammer between his fingers like a gunslinger twirling his pistol.

“Hell, no!” Aoi sat back up, rubbing his head. “I’ll get you this round!”

Ruki frowned as he watched the scene repeat itself all over again. Unexpected side of Shou, indeed. He and Shou had always considered themselves opposites of each other, at least in their approaches to their music and lyrics. Dark and light, hatred and love, hope and despair. The yin and the yang. Gemini of eternity.

But just as the yin displayed a spot of darkness, and the yang a spot of light, so each of them contained a bit of their opposite. Ruki might come across on stage as a foul-mouthed hardass, but he was also said to be the sweetest, most generous guy around when away from the spotlight. And Shou might seem like Prince Charming most of the time, but . . .

There was the fact that Ruki’s own lover was now laying on the floor, rubbing his head, and now Reita was having a go at it. Great, Shou was beating the hell out of both Ruki’s current lover and his ex.

“This is going to go on until every person at this party has lumps on their skull,” Saga said. “He makes you think you can beat him, but . . .”

Well, Ruki was going to put a stop to this. After all, nobody knew how to stop an out-of-control yin but its opposite yang. “I’m playing the next round,” he loudly announced, walking over to Shou.

Aoi finally managed to sit up, rubbing the top of his head. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he said. “He’s lethal when he plays this game!”

Ruki shot his lover a look that said “Trust me” and sat opposite Shou. “All right,” he said. “Bring it on.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Sempai?” Shou said, twirling the hammer again. Sempai - the only thing he’d ever called Ruki, even when they were long part the mentor-and-greenhorn-PSC-noob stage.

That nickname carried a ton of weight, and a load of memories. Shou, newly arrived at PSC, being introduced to Ruki . . . Shou landing at Ruki’s door in the middle of the night, a notebook full of unfinished lyrics in hand, looking for help with a sudden case of writer’s block . . . the two of them curled together in a futon, still sticky from several sessions of lovemaking the night before, looking over at the clock and trying to determine if they had time for one more quickie before heading off to various rehearsals and recording sessions and photo ops . . .

It was almost enough to make him waver from his current course. Almost.

“Shou, do you really need to ask that question?” he said.

“Okay.” Shou thought for a moment. Part of his success at rock-paper-scissors, if he was playing against someone he knew well, was to try to figure out what their opening move would be. It was sort of like playing Go . . . only with less quiet dignity and more violence.

During that pause, all eyes turned toward the two players. Shou’s two previous victims sat rubbing their heads, hoping their bandmate would be able to avenge them. Hiroto watched with trepidation, like the leading man’s love interest in an old movie – he was almost literally wringing his hands. Behind him, Tora and Saga watched with interest, knowing full well what Shou was capable of in this situation.

Across the room, Kai stood up slowly, surveying the situation with a frown. He looked down at his lover. “I think he’s drunk,” he said, quietly, inclining his head toward Shou.

“No, he’s not,” Uruha said. “Tipsy, yes. Not fully drunk.” And that was trustworthy word on the subject, because, after all, if there were someone who was an expert on whether someone was drunk, it was Uruha.

Shou figured out what his opening move was going to be. Oh, yes, perfect. “Okay,” he said. “Here we go! Jan-ken-PON!”

He thrust his hand out, first two fingers spread. Scissors. And across from him, Ruki was forming the shape of . . .

“Pistol?” Saga said, baffled.

“Pistol?” Kai leaned forward, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“PISTOL?” Aoi and Reita chorused, both wondering if they were seeing things because of their head injuries. They looked at Ruki, then at each other, then at Ruki again.

Sure enough, the smaller vocalist was sitting there, a knowing smile on his face and his hand in the familiar child-pretending-to-shoot-a-gun pose. Shou just sat across from him, shocked. Ruki took advantage of that moment to grab the hammer and smack Shou over the head, as hard as he’d hit Reita and Aoi.

“Pistol,” he said. “I win.”

Shou fell to the floor – not the over-exaggerated collapses he’d done the last Alice Nine Channel, when his protection had finally run out. OW. That hurt. Had he really seen what he thought he saw? Had Ruki actually . . .

Then, suddenly, he sat up, grabbing the hammer. “You didn’t win!” he said, raising the rubber weapon. “You _cheated!_ ”

And suddenly, Ruki saw his kohei’s eyes. They were fanatically alight, as if Shou were some sort of avenging angel, out to punish Ruki for his great sin against the holy game of rock-paper-scissors. This was not the Shou he knew. This was . . .

“He just awakened the Rock-Paper-Scissors Demon,” Saga said, calmly. He actually seemed to be enjoying this. If he had popcorn at hand, he’d be eating it.

Meanwhile, Ruki was doing quick mental calculations of the situation. Height advantage: Shou. Weapon advantage: Shou. His own advantage: His sempai status, which meant fuck-all about now. The whole thing could be summed up in two words . . .

“Oh, shit!” he said, springing to his feet and sprinting across the room, Shou following him, trying to hit him over the head with the hammer. He scrambled behind Kai, clinging to him – and nearly pulling him backward.

“Ack!” Kai cried, struggling to stay on his feet. “Ruki, what the hell?”

“You’re the leader!” Ruki said. “You’re supposed to protect me!”

“I’m WHAT?” Kai’s eyes flew wide with panic. Protecting a bandmate from a rubber-hammer-wielding maniac wasn’t in the usual PSC Leader-san Job Description. (If Alice Nine had to rely on Nao to protect them, they’d be completely up the creek without a paddle). Neither was being pulled backward by someone considerably shorter, to the point where he was struggling to keep his feet on the floor, because if he tipped backward . . .

“Hey!” Uruha sprang to his feet and grabbed Kai’s shoulders, pulling him the other way, trying to keep him upright, which just made Kai feel like the ice cream in a sandwich being pulled apart by an enthusiastic child. And meanwhile, their attacker was closing in . . .

Saga knew what he had to do. It was the only way out of the situation for everyone, the one way the day could be saved. He put his hands on Hiroto’s back and gave him a firm push.

“We’re going to have to sacrifice your body to stop the Rock-Paper-Scissors Demon,” he said.

“What?” Hiroto looked back at Saga, eyes nearly falling out of his head.

“You heard me,” Saga said. “There’s only one thing that will slow him down right now, and you’ve got it. Now go get him and drag him into the bedroom.”

This was bizarre. This was insane. And to think Hiroto was thinking earlier of himself and Shou having sex during the party as a silly and romantic thing. Now, it was . . .

He rushed across the room, planted himself between Shou and the Uruha-Kai-Ruki sandwich, grabbed the hand that held the hammer and crushed his mouth against his lover’s.

Shou froze in his tracks. There was a moment of sudden realization that Hiroto was in front of him, and was kissing him. There was another moment of realization that he’d let alcohol and high spirits carry him away, and he’d been acting like a total ass.

Slowly, his arms came around Hiroto. The first was starting to overpower the second. The hammer fell to the floor. Uruha and Ruki let go of Kai, and Ruki scooted over and grabbed the weapon.

The kiss broke just long enough for Hiroto to start moving in the direction of the bedroom, tugging Shou along. Shou obediently followed him – because losing himself in Hiroto was going to distract him from dealing with the guilt.

And besides, it somehow seemed a fitting end for what had become a strange evening.

Once they were gone from the room, Ruki started heading for the kitchen, determined to hide the hammer in the very back of a cabinet. Tora said to Saga, casually, “You’d better put an iPod in the sound system over there and crank the volume. Shou can be very loud, remember.”

“God, yes,” Saga said.

“Tell me about it,” Ruki added, as he passed them on the way to the kitchen.

Kai just watched them, blinking and wondering, quietly, if he was the only person at this party who hadn’t slept with Shou.

Saga headed for the boom box near the video game system. Fortunately, Hiroto’s overloaded iPod was still sitting near it, so all he had to do was find his “upbeat” playlist and plug it in.

He couldn’t resist a quick glance through Hiroto’s “romance” playlist, though. He was curious about what kind of music the lovebirds listened to while getting it on.  
* * *  
Once the door was shut behind them, Hiroto knew he was going to have to maintain the momentum and keep Shou’s attention with something fast and intense. He pushed him up against the wall, plundering his lover’s mouth with his tongue, running his hands up and down the front of his shirt. He felt Shou respond with intensity, arms wrapping around him and pulling him closer.

Good, maybe that aggression he was showing out there was going to be channeled into what they were doing.

He reached down, running his fingers over the other man’s zipper, teasing him. He moved the hand down to his thigh, caressing the sensitive flesh, feeling Shou shudder a bit in response.

His mind was racing, trying to come up with a creative idea. What could he possibly do to enhance this . . . He reached up and began to unbutton Shou’s shirt, buying himself time as much as anything else. Of course, he wasn’t exactly objecting to the sight of that well-loved flesh being bared for his touch, either.

A sudden inspiration hit him, and Hiroto broke away from Shou just long enough to rush over to the nighttable at his side of the bed. There was something they were using last night, something that hadn’t been put back in the drawer yet . . .

Shou blinked, confused. “Where did you go?” he said. His voice was the seductive tease Hiroto was all-too-familiar with, the one that always sent shivers up his spine.

He was starting to get genuinely turned on - thank God. He wouldn’t want to do this if he wasn’t.

“Just wait, you’ll see,” he said, in his own most seductive voice, pulling Shou into another embrace and bringing their lips together again. He pushed the item he was holding into his pocket for now, sliding his hands up Shou’s torso.

His thumbs made contact with both nipples, and he began to rub them gently, feeling them start to harden. This was a moment he always loved, which turned him on to no end - Shou’s flesh stiffening under his touch, standing at attention, responding to _him_. He heard the answering moan deep in Shou’s throat, and that turned him on even more.

He couldn’t deny that sense of pride in knowing he was making his lover feel good. It was like the sense of accomplishment after getting off a particularly hot guitar solo, one that left the audience screaming.

Hiroto broke his lips from Shou’s. “Do you like this?” he said, softly, gently squeezing both nipples between thumb and forefinger.

Shou shuddered, hard. “Yes!”

“What about this?” Hiroto brought one hand down, cupping it over Shou’s crotch - which was now considerably harder than the last time he touched it. He rubbed a little, making Shou moan again.

“Oh, yes,” Shou breathed, raggedly. “Unzip me. Pull them down. I want to feel you touching me.”

Hiroto did what Shou asked, sinking to his knees, kissing his stomach as he went, nipping once at the flesh and making Shou let out another sharp cry. He was just glad that they’d turned the music up in the party. Not that they didn’t all know what was going on in here, but Hiroto would die if they heard the specifics. (Which just made him think about himself and Shou watching Kai and Uruha from the closet, and there went a deep wave of heat all over his body - which always happened when that incident crossed his mind.)

The zipper came down, and Hiroto pushed the pants past Shou’s knees - then slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling around for what he’d picked up before. He moved back up, sliding the fingers of his other hand lightly up and down the shaft, making Shou let out another moan.

Hiroto leaned over, running his tongue slowly over the head of Shou’s erection , while bringing the other hand out of his pocket. He flipped a tiny switch with his thumb, and there was a soft humming noise. As his lips enveloped the head of Shou’s cock, he brought his index finger to the base, and pressed the fingertip vibrator mounted there to the hot, hardened skin.

Shou let out a gasp of surprise at the unexpected sensation. Oh, my GOD - that was oh-so-delicious, the buzzing toy moving over the base of his cock, in slow and teasing circles - while Hiroto’s tongue went to work on the head, running back and forth over the tip, then flicking downward, teasing the sensitive area where it joined the shaft.

The older man leaned backward against the wall, hands pressed against it, head tipped backward. His eyes were closed as his lips parted and he let out a long, low moan that would have been perfectly in place on a porn soundtrack.

Hiroto, encouraged, slid the toy upward, and his tongue downward, until they met each other at the midpoint of the shaft. He paused a moment, caressing with both, before moving the vibrator toward the tip.

When Shou felt the thrumming hum against the moistened flesh Hiroto had been licking before, and his lover’s tongue on his balls, that was good for another loud moan - so loud this time that it carried out into the party, overpowering the music.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, heads snapping upward. Tora had a knowing smirk on his face - he’d personally heard that sound from Shou before (he was the first man Shou ever slept with, after all). Very good, Hiroto, he thought. Well-done.

Sitting on the floor, Kai’s glass froze in place halfway to his mouth. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly looked uncomfortable. (Especially since there was something strangely familiar about the timber of that particular moan. Where had he heard it before?)

Uruha leaned over and patted his hand. “Don’t pay attention,” he said. And then, he leaned over and whispered in his lover’s ear, “You’re going to be making the same noises later.”

Back in the bedroom, Hiroto was sliding the fingertip vibrator around and around the head of Shou’s cock, slipping down over the shaft a little, then back up again. He slid the tip of his tongue over Shou’s balls, teasing the ultra-sensitive skin. He reveled in how it felt, not-smooth, hot and tight. His own cock was hard and aching within his pants, but that would be taken care of later.

“Yes, Hiroto,” Shou cried. “Yes, yes, keep going . . .”

Hiroto had a strategy tactic in mind, though. He lifted his head, enveloping the tip of Shou’s hardness in his lips again. This time, however, he reached further back with the vibrator.

He had to be careful with this, as he had no lube. Pressing too hard would bring Shou pain instead of pleasure. He gently felt around with his middle finger until he located the little puckered opening, then pressed the vibrator against it - not penetrating, just letting Shou feel it against his entrance.

“OH!” Shou cried out as the vibrations seemed to pass through his whole body, teasing sensations shooting through his bottom, igniting all the sensitive nerve endings - which was only compounded by his lover’s mouth sliding over his cock, sucking firmly at him, tongue flicking and teasing.

Hiroto’s head moved up and down, taking a little more in each time, the taste of Shou’s precome making his own cock all the harder. The finger slid back and forth gently, changing the angle of the vibration slightly - enough to make Shou moan loudly again.

Shou’s breath was ragged panting now, and his hands were in Hiroto’s hair, tangling through the soft strands. “Hiroto,” he gasped. “I’m close, so close . . .”

Hiroto responded by taking Shou in as deep as he could, finger caressing the opening gently, trying to give him one last burst of super-intense sensation.

It worked. Shou let out a loud, harsh cry, bucking forward wildly, and Hiroto felt the familiar rush of hot fluid into his mouth, swallowing as Shou cried out again, another wave of pleasure passing through his body.

When it was finally over, and Hiroto felt Shou’s whole body sag, he gave his now-softening cock one last, loving stroke of the tongue before standing up and kissing Shou’s lips. Both of them knew what Hiroto needed now, and he wouldn’t need much of it.

Shou’s fingers quickly unfastened Hiroto’s zipper and pushed inside, grasping his cock and starting to stroke, rapidly. His thumb brushed over the tip, making Hiroto moan into Shou’s mouth, arching into his touch.

The vocalist’s hand moved faster, twisting a little as it moved along the shaft, brushing and caressing at the sensitive spots, then rubbing his thumb over the head again. Hiroto let out another moan, feeling the heat and intensity mount in him rapidly.

The stroking was just a formality, just the physical contact he needed to get off, but oh, yes, how he needed it. His hips thrust forward urgently, fucking his lover’s hand, trying to feel Shou’s touch on every bit of his most sensitive flesh.

And finally, the pleasure broke, and he cried out nearly as loudly as Shou had, the heat that had built up inside him finally being released in long, intense waves. His come poured over Shou’s fingers, and when he finally finished, sagging forward against his lover, he looked up - knowing he was going to see Shou lick Hiroto’s come from his fingers. Shou didn’t disappoint.

After a long moment, they kissed gently, tasting themselves on each other’s mouths. “Calmed down now?” Hiroto said, softly.

Shou hugged him closely, leaning his head against his lover’s. Respite over. Time to face reality. “I kind of got carried away in there, didn’t I?” Even as he said it, he knew it was an understatement of massive proportions.

“You might say that,” Hiroto said. “You owe a couple of people apologies.” Ruki was going to have his hands full with a wounded Aoi. Not that he wouldn’t have creative ways of making him feel better.

“I know,” Shou said. “I was just . . .caught up in the moment. You know, like a live.”

Hiroto couldn’t quite see the comparison. After all, at lives, Shou didn’t go around smacking people with rubber hammers. And if his lover even thought after adding that to the show, he’d be banished to the couch for months.

“Do me a favor,” Hiroto said. “If you ever feel that caught up in the moment again, find me and drag me into the nearest bedroom. I’ll give you something better to get caught up in.” One that wouldn’t result in the use of ice packs.

Shou hugged him tightly again. “This is why I love you, you know that?” You knew someone was your true soul mate when they knew how to handle you in your less-than-admirable moments.

“I love you, too,” Hiroto said. “Now, let’s get cleaned up and back out there.”

Shou nodded. Apologies time - especially to Sempai. That was one relationship he didn’t want to jeopardize.

Although if Hiroto was going to make him those kind of offers, he might get caught up in the moment a little more often.

 

EPILOGUE: KAI AND URUHA

 

By the time they got back to Uruha’s place, it was the wee, small hours of the morning. Not that it was anything unusual for them. They were quite used to both working and playing long after most of Japan had scrambled home on the last train.

Kai headed straight for the bedroom, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his temples. It had been a strange, surreal evening – the feeling had persisted even after Shou and Hiroto had emerged from the bedroom, Shou smiling and acting like his usual self, bowing and apologizing over and over for the way he’d acted before. The rest of the party had been people just laughing and talking – and no more mention of games of any kind.

He was just glad he wasn’t a new arrival to the company. This would scare him away from PSC.

Uruha came into the bedroom, his contacts pulled out – though he didn’t bother to put his glasses on. He’d put up with the bad eyesight to cover the distance between the bathroom and the bed. He and Kai would be horizontal soon enough anyway.

He sat next to his lover, yawning and stretching. “That was unusual,” he said. “I didn’t know Shou had it in him.”

“Neither did Ruki,” Kai said, “and they’ve been close for years.” He had wondered, at several points, whether their vocalist considered Shou more than a friend-with-benefits. Then again, Ruki had such a checkered romantic history that it was hard to tell just who he had feelings for at any given time – at least, until he and Aoi ended up together.

“But did you have fun?” Uruha said, letting one arm drop around his lover’s shoulders.

“Other than when I thought Ruki was going to flip me backward over his head? Yes.” He leaned over toward him. “It was better than that other party.”

“You mean, the company one?” Uruha said. “It wasn’t all bad. Okay, the being at the center of attention all the time sucked, but . . .” He let his fingers trail over his lover’s wonderfully muscular arm. “I liked the private party.”

Kai found himself flushing. That was . . . exciting. Never mind that odd feeling they were being watched. There was something to be said for lovemaking with an element of danger.

“I liked it, too,” he said. “I’m glad we snuck off.”

“We can do it again, you know,” Uruha said. “There’s going to be a lot more parties, and a lot more ballrooms.”

He began to incline his head toward Kai, clearly with the intention of “kiss.” And Kai was going to respond. It was now the most natural thing in the world for them to lean into each other and touch lips, melting into each other almost immediately

It was as if they had been together for years, instead of spending the better part of a decade working together, onstage together, and not connecting this way.

No matter. They were just going to have to work all the harder to make up for all that lost time. Which might explain how fast Kai leaned his head back to give Uruha access to his throat, and how eagerly Uruha went for what was offered, nipping lightly at the skin, brushing his tongue over it.

He moved to one strategic, sensitive spot near the base of his neck and zeroed in immediately, biting at it, sucking intensely, making Kai arch toward him and cry out. It was pleasure and pain all at once, a sharp and intense sensation that made the blood rush instantly to his lower regions.

Uruha lifted his head and surveyed his handiwork. There was a lovely hickey at the point that he’d just been pleasuring. “There,” he said. “You always look cute in scarves. I just gave you a reason to wear one.”

Kai was feeling slightly pleasure-dazed. “I love when you do that,” he said in a dreamy voice.

“Mmm? This?” Uruha let his fingers trail over the hickey, and Kai felt the slightly rough brush of the typical-for-a-guitarist calluses against the now-oversensitive flesh. He gave a little gasp. “I could do it again, you know. Only . . . “ He caressed the spot again. “Better.”

“What do you mean?” He couldn’t imagine it would get much better than this.

Uruha ran his fingers over his lover’s dark hair. This was one of the things he loved the most about Kai. He was, in many ways, so innocent. Of course, he was also a savvy bandleader, and sometimes had a downright scary streak (much like they’d seen on display from Shou earlier tonight). But when it came to sex, he seemed sometimes to be genuinely surprised at pleasure.

“Why don’t we take your clothes off,” he said, “and you’ll find out?”

They moved fast to strip both of them. It didn’t matter who was undoing what, as long as shirts, pants and those necessary rock star accessories hit the floor. Once they were both naked, they kissed again, wrapping their arms around each other and tumbling to the bed as their tongues reached for each other, stroking eagerly.

Kai ran his hands down his lover’s back, finding his ass and squeezing it hard. He felt the shudder in response, and it brought about an answering shiver within his own body. Now that they were pressed together, their chests rubbing against one another, cocks brushing, he knew that he’d wanted to do this all evening.

When their lips broke apart, Uruha said, “Turn over. On your stomach.”

Kai was reluctant to get rid of that warmth, that delicious skin-to-skin sensation - but he also was eager to find out what “better” meant in regards to that hickey. So he turned over, arms folded and head resting on them. “Like this?”

“Pull your knees up,” Uruha said. Kai obeyed, pointing his ass directly at his lover - and then, felt Uruha lean over, his hot breath on the rounded flesh offered up to him. A shiver of delight ran through Kai. Was he going to . . .

He got his answer quickly. He felt Uruha’s lips on his ass, kissing him, and he moaned. He’d never done this before. It was a familiar feeling, the softness and wetness against skin, but at the same time, entirely unfamiliar. He felt himself raising his hips a bit, trying to get more . . .

And then, the teeth nipped at him, and he let out a cry. Sharp, intense, pain and pleasure at the same time, enough to make his heart pound and his head swim. Which only got stronger as Uruha started to suck at him, drawing a small amount of the firm flesh into his lips, scraping it with his teeth again (which brought about another cry), then sucking hard.

Another nip, and then he raised his head, drawing his tongue slowly over the ass-hickey he’d created. “There,” he said, softly. “How was that?”

“Oh . . . My . . . God . . .” Kai couldn’t move. He was stunned in place after that. His whole body seemed to be thrumming with heightened nerve endings, and his cock was rock-hard. How could such a seemingly small thing as the ass-hickey feel so intense? But it did.

He was still lying there when he heard Uruha go into the night table drawer. Getting the lube, no doubt. And sure enough, he felt Uruha coax him to move his legs apart, and felt liquid lube being poured into his cleft.

But little did he know that his lover had gotten a sudden, wicked inspiration from the ass-hickey, and was very glad he’d stashed a common household item in the nighttable drawer, just in case.

Kai braced himself for the welcome invasion of fingers - but felt something else instead. Something was being stretched over his ass? And it was . . . Plastic?

Then, Uruha was lowering his head to his lover’s ass again, and Kai felt something against that plastic, all right, soft and strong and hot, teasing his opening and flicking in and out of it. A mixture of pleasure and confusion passed through his mind. Was this some kind of toy? If so, why did it feel so much like flesh?

It was only when it pushed fully into him, taking the plastic along with it, that it finally registered, and he let out a loud moan. It was Uruha’s tongue inside him, fucking him, rimming him . . . The plastic was some sort of barrier to make it safe and sanitary.

Not that he was thinking about that part at all. Oh, no. Not when that hot, wicked tongue was pushing into his body, wriggling this way and that within him, pressing against sensitive nerves and sending jolts through him, the softness a maddening contrast to getting penetrated with the hardness of a cock. “Oh, oh, yes, don’t stop, don’t ever stop!” he cried.

Uruha wasn’t going to do that. After all, when Leader-san gave an order, people listened. He pushed his tongue in further, and began to thrust it in a steady rhythm, wiggling it every time he completed an inward push, making Kai give out another loud cry.

He’d told him that he was going to be making the same noises as Shou, and he kept his promises. (Well, other than the promises to be at band meetings on time).

As he relentlessly tongue-fucked the drummer, Uruha reached around his body and grasped his lover’s cock in his hand, starting to stroke it to the same rhythm as the rimming. Kai thought he was going to explode. He could only press his head against his arms, panting heavily and letting out loud moans as intense sensations ran through him.

He was aware of tiny details, the feel of strands of Uruha’s hair sticking to Kai’s sweat-soaked skin, of the way his lover’s thumb did a slow, spiraling dance along the head of his cock, of the way the soft, hot thing inside him flicked to the left, then to the right . . . .

A twist of Uruha’s hand along his shaft, and his control finally gave way. He thrust his hips backward, nearly screaming as the orgasm tore through him in hot, pulsing waves. He was aware of the come pouring from him, all over Uruha’s fingers, as the last of the shudders faded away.

When the tongue gently slid out of him and the plastic was pulled away, it felt like a part of him was missing.

Kai just lay there, limply, trying to catch his breath and reorient himself to reality. He still couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was probably the most intense thing he’d ever experienced, sexually.

He felt Uruha gently turn him over and bring that mouth that had just been pleasuring him to his. He knew he had to do something to relieve the tension within his lover - even if it wasn’t giving him quite the same experience.

Kai rolled Uruha over on his back and moved down his body, kissing his way along his chest and stomach, flicking his tongue along the nipples as he came to them. He moved further, nipping at Uruha’s stomach as he went, hearing small moans for his efforts.

Finally, he reached his erection, and kissed the head, softly, being rewarded with a gasp and an “Oh, yes.” He kissed it again, then opened his lips and began to slide downward, willing himself to relax his gag reflex. He wanted to take Uruha in as deep as he could - his lover deserved no less after what he just gave Kai.

Uruha moaned and tangled his hands in Kai’s hair as the other man started to suck - fast and intense, not soft and gentle, something designed to bring rapid, sharp pleasure. And that’s exactly what it brought. Uruha arched his back, his moans instantly growing loud and intense.

“Oh, that’s so good,” he moaned. “Suck me, baby, like that . . .”

Kai was concentrating hard on making sure Uruha got as much pleasure as possible, on taking him in deep, flicking his tongue on the shaft on the outstroke, paying special homage to the tip, licking at the slit and tasting his precome. The delicious groans were coming louder, and faster, and he wanted to hear them turn into a near-scream.

He moved his head faster, the cock sliding back and forth over his lips and tongue, and heard Uruha cry out, “Oh, oh, oh, it’s coming, I’m going to come, Kai . . .”

Kai reached down and brushed his fingertips over his lover’s balls - the thing he knew would drive him over the edge. Sure enough, Uruha arched up sharply, almost screaming as his come poured into Kai’s mouth. Kai swallowed it, then raised his head, tenderly licking away any stray drops.

When he moved back up to kiss Uruha, his fingers tangled in his lover’s hair. “That was so incredible,” he said in a hoarse near-whisper. “I never felt anything like that before. Ever.”

“Well, then, we’ll have to do it again, won’t we?” Uruha said, nestling his forehead against Kai’s. “As much as you want.”

“I think I’ll be wanting it a lot,” Kai said, blushing a little. “But, Uruha . . . What was it that you used? You know, as the . . . barrier?”

“Oh, that?” He glanced over at the nighttable. “Saran Wrap. I put a roll there awhile ago, just in case.”

“Saran Wrap?” He blinked in surprise. Well, here was irony - a common kitchen item being used to pleasure the cook of their band. He was just glad it wasn’t chopsticks, because that would be . . . just weird.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He pulled Kai close, nuzzling his hair.

“I’m glad you’re creative.” He wrapped his arms around Uruha, yawning. After that party, and a workout like that, he needed sleep. “I love you,” he murmured, sleepily.

Fortunately, Kai said it first, because Uruha wasn’t good at that sort of thing. “Love you too,” he whispered.

The rubber hammer incident now seemed far away. The private party had turned out to be much better than the public one - for both couples.

If nothing else, it was one hell of an interesting way to start the not-quite-new year.


End file.
